


Love of a Snake

by Dustfactory



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Creature Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-11
Updated: 2006-03-11
Packaged: 2020-02-07 06:52:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18615403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dustfactory/pseuds/Dustfactory
Summary: What if Harry can only understands what parselmouths and snakes speak, and he dislike or distrust humans in general? What if Harry was abandoned by the Dursleys and was raised by a (or a group of) magical serpent? Hence, he only understands parseltongue and does not like humans very much in general. What if he learned to became a snake Animagus ever before his return to the human world; and somehow he end up as Voldemort's new familiar (or pet) snake? He believes that he shall be the consort of the fearful Dark Lord.NOTE: OLD FIC, ABANDONED





	Love of a Snake

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2006, and it's not finished. (It likely never will be.) I'm transferring it over from fanfiction.net, and I'm too lazy to break it up into the chapters. It's unedited and I haven't read it in years.

Love of a Snake  
Prologue

All I remember, really, is seeing my aunt fiddling with the oven. Apparently the gas flames hadn't been working properly, and after much screaming about how my freakishness was most likely the cause, Aunt Petunia went about trying to figure out what was wrong. She had finally gotten fed up with me for watching and sent me outside to do something, anything, she didn't care.

It must have been around late September, as the leave were a magnificent purple, I remember picking up a strangely shaped one, sitting on the ground, and tracing the tiny veins with my pudgy clumsy toddler fingers.

After that, an extremely loud noise, a fire ball of heat (my memory still insists that it was sickly green, though I know this can't be true), pain, and blackness.

The rest of the memories following that are a blur. I remember waking up in somewhere that was an ungodly white, my glasses gone, and the feeling of being constricted by what would end up being the result of many many bandages.

All I really have a sense of was the brightness, the pain, and the metallic rhythmic beeping of some kind of muggle device. Eventually they must have deemed me alive and well, because I ended up back in my Uncle Vernon's care, who had apparently been at work when the gas had exploded. He had gotten a frantic call from the authorities or a neighbor or someone, I'll never know, or care. All that matters is that he came home to find his house being doused by frantic firemen trying to keep the deadly flames from spreading, his wife and son dead (burnt beyond recognition), and me.

The Freak. The Abomination. The Bane of his Existence. I had lived, and he couldn't stand it. In his grief stricken mind, I was obviously the cause of the death of his wife and son.

Now that Petunia was dead, he had absolutely no reason to keep me. After all, it was her and Dudley's blood relation to me that had kept me safe. As soon as he could manage it, I was gone. He dumped me in the middle of a forest, a far far ways away, and left me there to die. I had nothing. No food, no water, no coat.

I was four.

Chapter 2: In which we All Fall Down  
Love of a Snake  
Chapter 1: In which we All Fall Down  
Age 4 Oct. 31, 1984  
Harry was cold, wet, and couldn't see anything. He sat forlorn under a tree, picking idly at a rather large hole in his far to big shoe as warm tears stained his cheeks. Even my cousin's feet are fat. He thought with a hiccough.

"I'm not a freak." The small child whispered. "I'm not."

A mottle of bruises and various lacerations glared angrily up from under the rags he wore and one had to wonder: What could a boy so little and innocent have done to deserve such treatment?

He shivered violently, and knew that his uncle wasn't coming back. His whimpers subsided in small amounts, until they fell into small hiccoughed puffs, frosting over as the first drops of rain froze into snow.

No one was there to see the small body of their savior shiver fitfully as his black tear-clumped eyelashes iced. When the tears froze into shards of cold diamond against his cooling face. Those that would praise him in years to come, pile their hopes on his shoulders, where were they now, when he needed them most?

Their dreams were filled with candy, dancing fruit, and cocoons of blankets. After all, heroes are better out of sight and out of mind after they've served their purpose.

In another part of the forest that Vernon had dropped his charge off in, a sinewy body was sliding carefully though crackling leaves, ignoring the flutter of snow on her black scales. She really didn't know where she was going, and no longer cared. Her Tom was gone, had been gone for three years. Today was in fact the exact day he had died, leaving his precious familiar to fend for herself.

Nagini would have cried, but snakes didn't have tear ducts, and her stomach was suddenly in need of sustenance. Tom Riddle hadn't really been Tom Riddle for the last part of his life anyway. If she was going to properly morn him, it would not be the day his body died, it would have been years before than when his decent into death and madness had finally tipped him over the edge.

She gave the snake's equivalent of a sigh, but straitened at the taste of young heat on her tongue. It wasn't far, and it was already half dead, saving her the trouble of subduing it. Nagini wasn't really in the mood for a fight anyway. She continued more cautiously now, tongue flickering out more frequently.

She wound under one last bush, pushing her head out to see a small mop of black ratted hair and tattered rags.

A human then. She would have grimaced if she could. Humans were not necessarily the best cuisine, but she was desperate and hadn't had something filling in nearly a fortnight. She approached, not really worried about waking it. It was to far gone to be a threat. She nudged it's head up with her tail, taking in it's small pale features. It's nose was blue on the tip, lips pasty. It was rather dirty, but she'd had worse.

She moved to coil about it, settling around it's small frame, and it fell limply into her strong body. She used her tail to tilt its head back, flickering her tongue over it's supple flesh. She planed to savor this meal, as she didn't know when she would get another one. It made soft whimpering noises, clutching at her fitfully in some sort of nightmare as it's eyes moved restlessly beneath it's eyelids.

It made her pause, and she stared at it strangely. Something was off about this little one. It's head flopped back bonelessly, reveling a small bared throat, that was already deathly cold when she pushed her nose against it. It was shivering uncontrollably as she continued her search for the wrongness. She moved up farther, and her eyes honed in on it's forehead. That mark... This is the child. This is their savior. It made her angry, for even though she was hungry, she could still understand that the darling of the wizarding world had been left half frozen under a tree in some isolated forest to die.

As she stared at this little boy in front of her, trying to decide what to do, he blinked impossibly green eyes open and stared back. She reared back in shock, seeing the eyes of her master in this boys face. The emerald color that had been Tom's alone before the dark arts had robbed him of it, now sat in this small child's face. And his mop of black messy hair, the same raven shade.

She drew herself closer again, to study him. He obviously had no clue what was going on, his beautiful eyes staring past her blankly. She nudged him with her tale, propping his body back up carefully. It took him a good few minutes, but he finally managed to focus on her, before his eyes began to slip closed again. A hissing sigh left his lips, sounding just a little to much like her own language to be coincidence. She jabbed him sharply in the side, trying to wake him up. She ended up having to shake him rather hard, and receive a slurred, "Please, no, I'll be good!" Before he focused on her again. He squinted at her, not seeming to be able to see her properly.

She noticed a small pair of crushed glasses near the tree trunk and moved closer so he could see her. She hissed experimentally to the boy in her tongue, and felt silly. It would be to much to much to ask for this little boy that looked remarkably like her dead master to be able to speak.

But, the remarkable happened and the sibilant hiss of Parsel slipped from his lips. He didn't look surprised, and she wondered if he even realized what he was doing.

"Oh Wadjet, what have I gotten my self into?"

He seemed to forget about the cold for a second and giggled running tiny hands over her scales. He hissed quietly, about how pretty she was and her heart melted for the first time in years. There was no way she could harm this small innocent creature, but Nagini also realized that if she didn't find him some sort of warmth soon that he would die anyway.

She managed to wrap his bony body in her coils so that she could still move.

"Little one?" She asked softly, but he was already asleep on her back, his breath whistling softly through his mouth.

She couldn't help but feel happy, even if she also felt slightly guilty. After all, this was the boy that had been Tom's (She refused to call him that ridiculous name he had made up for himself) downfall.

Age 9 September 1, 1989

"You're not focusing hard enough."

Nine year old Harry had his eyes squeezed shut, concentrating as hard as he possibly could. Nagini had said that it was possible to become like her, how her last wizard had been able to. She said it would probably take him a few years before he would be able to actually make the change, but she said he was doing wonderful for his age.

Harry began to squirm after a few minutes, getting antsy. He was tired of meditating, and wanted to play.

"Please, Nagi?"

"I thought I told you not to call me that, you imp." She said fondly. Harry pouted. "Please what?"

"Please can I go play? My head hurts."

She stared at him with her large yellow eyes. Finally she nodded and nudged him with her nose.

"Go then, you brat." The raven haired boy grinned and pressed a kiss to her nose.

Harry climbed down from the tree they had been settled in. His motions were practiced and easy, with a fluent grace. He was clothed in things they had carefully pilfered from campers or by other means. Harry's hair was a long matted tangle that they had tried unsuccessfully to fix several times. It didn't help that it had the uncanny ability to regenerate itself every time they found something to hack it off with.

Harry was a happy boy, a wild child. He did as he pleased most of the time, and he had a caring maternal figure. It did not bother either of them that he was human and she was not. She had taken care of Harry as long as he could remember, though sometimes at night, he would have nightmares about a time when he was beaten and forced to live in a tiny dark space, about a burning heat and a green light. He tired not to remember.

Nagini sighed, making sure he did not get to far out of sight. She had relocated them after the first time the wizards had come searching and almost found them. Now they lived in a valley with trees surrounding it. It was very secluded and Nagini could only hope that it would buy her and her surrogate hatchling some time. She knew they probably could not hide from the wizarding world forever- he was their 'savior' after all- but she could do her damnedest.

Age 10 February 20, 1991

Nagini watched with proud fascination as the first scales began to sprout on her charge after nearly a year and a half of hard work. It would still take a great deal longer, but he was doing shockingly well for someone that was only ten and a half and had a snake for a tutor. It helped that she had been pushing him extra hard lately, as she had heard whispers of something dark.

She had her suspicions. Strong suspicions; after all she had been the familiar of Tom Riddle for nearly fifty years. A good deal of those years he had spent attempting to make himself immortal, and she knew there were fail safes that he had created in just such an event that someone had actually managed to toss a well aimed Avada in his direction.

Of course, if she had heard the rumors, so had others. They would probably have made their way back to Dumbledore by now, and if anything came from them they would want their little savior back.

Harry was rather adorable with his nose scrunched in concentration, sweat dripping down his face and neck. It was painfully slow work, and from what she could tell, and somewhat excruciating. She could only hope he managed his transformation before Dumbledore came for him. It was his only possible route of escape, as far as she could see.

Nagini was curled protectively around Harry, in the underground nest sort of thing she had helped Harry build for the cold winter months. There were definitely scales, black and pale silver-green. Using the tip of her tail, she carefully pried one of his eyelids open. She studied the green globe closely and thought his pupils might just be a little more oblong. Maybe. Or that might just be her wishful thinking.

Harry's breath was becoming harsh and labored. He clutched at his head and doubled over in pain. She held him carefully, soothing him. She felt the last string of magic holding him back stretch like a violin string, straining but beautiful, and snap. It was as if a scaled dam had been broken, and scales seemed to explode over his bare skin. Before his body could transform with them, they were sucked back in as if by a vacuum. Little Harry collapsed against Nagini's body, in a dead faint.

She smiled down at him proudly. He had come so far, it would only be a matter of days now.

Age 13 March 18, 1994

Harry's scar burned for the umpteenth time. Even as a snake, he could still feel its painful sting with the unwanted visions that he couldn't understand. He buried his nose in Nagini's scaled belly, and she wrapped tighter around him unconsciously, use to his nightmares as she was. She hissed softly in sleep, and the noise soothed him. He felt rather guilty, and tried to be quiet, but it hurt so much.

When ever he would explain the visions to her, she would go quiet and get a far away look. She tried to hide it, but he knew there was much more than she was telling him. It had been over three years now since he had mastered his transformation, and he hadn't changed back since. He had hated his other body, and felt much more comfortable in this skin.

Nagini stirred against him, and moved to stretch. A sent caught his noise and he froze.

"What is that?", Harry asked carefully. The cobra paused, and her her eyes widened slightly.

"It is not possible." Harry gave her a confused look, or would have if the sent hadn't been overwhelming his senses.

"What?" Harry asked, feeling rather dazed.

"I seem to be in heat. This hasn't happened for over forty years." She hissed bluntly. Harry hummed in a distracted manner, and Nagini realized what was happening. She eyed the young viper, considering her options. If she didn't do something soon, she would most likely end up rather pregnant, and she wasn't sure she wanted that.

However, her current situation could not be ignored.

"Harry, love, I'm going out for a while." Harry nodded in a vague manner, and she slipped out of their nest quickly.

Age 13 May 12, 1994

Her eggs were a soft cream color, with black speckles. Their were exactly twenty-two of them, and each and every one was small and round. Harry preened over them, constantly nudging them with his nose and hissing quietly to them. He would sit for hours curled around them, absolutely glowing.

There was one that was smaller than the rest, and she knew it would not be healthy. She had said she would get rid of it, smash it, as the hatchling would never be able to live a full life. Harry had recoiled violently at her suggestion, saying that he had been small and runty too, why hadn't she killed him?

She had figured that it was just his lingering humanness, and after a long heated argument, she had allowed him to keep it, but warned him that it was a cruel thing to do. It would never survive.

Harry swore it would.

She nudged the leaves that made up their nest closer, making sure all of the eggs were covered. It was still chilly out, and it wouldn't do for them to get cold. They would be hatching any day now.

Age 13 May 20, 1994

Only nineteen of the eggs hatched, and Harry mourned each of the ones that didn't. Nagini thought it impractical, she knew that was just the way it went, that was why she had that many eggs to start with. If five of them made it to maturity, they would be lucky. She didn't tell Harry this, as he already seemed overly sad about something that he had no fault in.

Surprisingly enough, Harry's runt had hatched. Where all the rest of them were mostly black with dark greyish markings, the runt was white with markings so pale they were barely visible. It's eyes were crimson, and it hid from the light more than the others. It was tiny, and wasn't strong enough to fight for it's own mouse. Harry was loving and patient, making sure it got it's share, and slowly it grew along with the rest. Months of care and devotion paid off as the sickly young snake bloomed into a beautiful loving companion that stayed on after most of the others left the nest. Harry adored the young serpent, and named her Blanche.

Age 14 May 20, 1995

It was a year later to the day that the wizards found them. They came marching through the forest, the White One at their head. His beard tucked into his belt, violently purple sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and wand held at destructive ready. Another clutch that had yet to hatch had been laid again this year. Nagini found it strange that she should be in heat two years in a row after nearly forty years of being barren.

Over the winter, their small underground nest had become too cramped for a growing teenager, and as a result, they had had to move their nest above ground.

The wizards trampled through their forest, crushing flowers and grass that hadn't been touched by human foot since Harry had mastered his change.

They moved steadily closer, and she felt Harry rear in shock next to her as he slithered out of the forest from his most recent hunt. Blanche followed behind him, and never having seen a human before, she was more curious than scared.

Nagini stared hard at Albus Dumbledore's band of merry men, and caught the scent of the dark haired one that followed closely next to the aged wizard. She knew him, and he in turn would know her. After all, he had been one of Tom's inner circle.

"Harry, we must leave. We cannot stay here. If they find us, they will take you away." Nagini hissed. It was hopeless, because she knew Harry would never abandoned their clutch, and their was no way they could move the thirty-six eggs before the wizards reached them. Dumbledore was casting his wand this way, scanning for life.

"No! I will not leave them!" And she knew he wouldn't. She gave him a defeated look, and hissed back quietly.

"I know." And they were three metres away, and then two, and Dumbledore's wand glowed a pulsing red. She could hear them talking in excited human voices. After such a long period away from human speech, she was unable to decipher half of what they were saying.

She steeled herself for what was most likely her death. Humans as a rule were not tolerant of snakes. She reared, flaring her hood, and bared her fangs. Before she could tell Harry to stay down, he was next to her, following suit. Protecting their nest from the wizards.

Snape gaped at her, and paled.

"Severus." She hissed loudly, and having heard his name said in Parseltongue so many years before repeated in anger, or otherwise by his Lord, he recognized it. She could see it click, and he choked out a fearful reply.

"N- Nagini."

Dumbledore was a very sharp man, even in his old age, and the vaguely lightning bolt shaped patch of discolored scales over the black and green snake's very poison colored eyes did not slip his notice.

The fact that Severus seemed to think that the snake beside it was Lord Voldemort's long lost familiar also didn't pass him by. He highly doubted either of these things were a coincidence, but would need more time to figure everything out. Making a split decision, he advanced slowly, wand now carefully hidden up his sleeve.

"Harry," He said soothingly. "Harry, my boy, I'm not going to hurt you."

Dumbledore was taking an enormous risk trying to talk down a potentially poisonous snake and it's definitely lethal companion. Their hisses intensify, and Snape said something warningly, but the headmaster was too focused on his task. Another hiss and then a crunch followed by a sharp squelch, and with lightning speed two enraged snakes were striking.

The next few seconds were a blur of rapid magic, venom, and the crunchsquelch of of wizard boots on eggs. When the sparks cleared, two snakes were laying unconscious in a mess of yolk and blood, Dumbledore standing over them.

Snape stared at the back of the Headmaster, covered in what might as well have been infant's gore. Did the man have so little respect for nature? Or was it that he had so little respect for anything even rumored to be dark in any fashion?

Snape watched as the Headmaster muttered a few strong banishing and cleansing charms. When his robes were spotless, he turned his wand on Nagini's companion.  
He began incarnating, waving his wand in precise even movements above the snake. Within moments, there was a pop and a young delicate human body replaced the snake, a tangled matt of hair knotting with the grass and weeds around it. Snape gasped softly, his eyes refusing to believe what he saw. He could see the resemblance to James Potter, and when the Headmaster whispered Ennervate there was Lily with the blink of glazed green eyes.

What he wasn't expecting, was the even more pronounced resemblance to his old master. By the tensing of Albus' shoulders, he knew the old coot saw it too. It might have just been too much time spent in animagus form (how had this boy of what, thirteen, fourteen, have managed to achieve such a thing, anyway?) for he knew that was what had caused a lot of the changes in Voldemort's appearance. The boy's nose was not nearly as flat and serpentine as the Dark Lords had been, but it was there, and the eyes were split with silted pupils. The entire face was serpent like, and when his glazed look finally faded, the boy's body recoiled in a decidedly snakelike manner. Parsel flowed from his lips, and he snarled, rather large dangerous looking fangs snicking down behind his eyeteeth.

The Headmaster was attempting to placate the boy, but even to Severus it was rather obvious he couldn't understand english. Nagini was beginning to stir, he could see her long and very dangerous black body glint as she moved sluggishly. Her coils carefully came up and wrapped themselves around her charge, protecting him. Snape wondered why the Headmaster was still standing there, and hadn't moved to stun her again.

When she finally managed to lift her head, she glared angrily at Dumbledore. She made to strike at him, and her nose bounced off a shield that the man had erected.

Well that explains that. Snape thought.

Nagini turned to the boy she currently held wrapped in her coils.

"Nagi, I'm scared."

"I know, love."

"Where are the eggs?" Harry's tone took on a panicked edge. "What did the White Man do to with our eggs?"

Nagini knew what had happened to the eggs, she had heard the sound of boots on shell and yolk. She imagined he had most likely banished the remains, not wanting to alarm Harry. She didn't say anything, know that Harry would be much more hurt about their loss than she. She turned back to the aged wizard, who seemed to be trying to converse with Harry. He seemed to have forgotten that Parseltongue was an ability one was born with, where English was not.

Nagini listened carefully to what he was saying. She could understand a bit of it, if she tried.

"Hogwarts...take care of you...schooling...godfather..."

"He seems to think that you should go to Hogwarts with him for schooling, and that you godfather is there." She hissed quietly to Harry. Serpentine verdant eyes snapped to her, and she felt a pulsing shiver run through the length of her body. Oh how much he looked like Tom...

"My godfather? What is a godfather?"

"A godfather is like... A surrogate father human males appoint to their hatchlings in the chance of their death." Harry looked bewildered for a second.

"But, you said my real father was dead. Why didn't my godfather take me in then?" Nagini shook her head.

"I have no idea, love." Dumbledore looked like he was getting rather impatient. Harry sighed, shifting his gaze back to the old wizard.

"We don't really have a choice, do we?" Harry said, referring to what Dumbledore wanted. Thin boned hands pushed thick matted black locks out of his face as he glanced around at the few dozen wizards that had surrounded them. And array of emotions could be seen on their faces, if one cared to look. Harry didn't have much, if any, experience in reading wizards, so he didn't.

"No, most likely not. It won't be for very long, Hogwarts is near a large forest, we can easily escape after a few days." Harry turned a resigned face on the headmaster and nodded solemnly. While Dumbledore spoke quickly to his companions, Harry glanced down, making sure that Blanche was secured around his calf. Finally, the old wizard took out a lemon yellow tin for Harry to touch. A great many cracks filled the air, and Dumbledore's companions disappeared. Harry reached out one slender pale finger, gingerly touching it to the yellow thing at the same time that the tip of Nagini's settled on it. A nauseating tug behind his navel followed, and then swirling blackness.

Chapter 3: Fuzzy Haired Bookworms  
Q: Are Nagini's eggs Harry's too?

A: No, they are not. I'm not really sure where Nagini found another King Cobra or equally large snake to mate with in a remote forest somewhere in the UK, but she managed it.

Love of a Snake  
Chapter 2: Fuzzy Haired Bookworms  
Age 14 Monday May 20, 1995  
Harry was currently in the infirmary, being checked over by the mediwitch. (Or at least that was what Nagini said she was doing with all the sparks and wand waving.) He fiddled with the sleeve of the black robe he had been given, and squirmed a bit. Clothing was strange, and he wasn't sure he liked it much.

After leaving behind Nagini's eggs, (which even though they were not technically his, he still cared for each of them greatly.) he had refused to allow Nagini or Blanche out of his sight, even on the Headmaster's insistence that they stay outside of the castle, if only for the safety of the students that were still there for the next four weeks or so. Nagini was slowly reviving her dormant ability to understand spoken english, and was able to translate to Harry most of what was said around him. He in turn was able to reply with simple nods or shakes of his head.

Most of the staff had reacted rather violently to Harry's appearance, especially those who were old enough to remember a certain Tom Riddle before his downfall. (Nagini and Blanche definitely didn't help things.) Dumbledore reassured them that Harry's serpentine appearance was only the effect of being in animagus form for far to long, and that he was not in anyway related to Voldemort.

After the witch was done checking him over, he was ushered into a large bathroom and told to bathe himself. Pomfrey, as Harry found the mediwitch was called, handed him a bottle of purple gel and a bar of something white. He stared at them bewildered before glancing at Nagini.

"What in the world am I suppose to do with these?" Harry asked. He carefully popped the top off of the bottle and sniffed it, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Nagini snickered.

"First get into the tub, and then rub the purple gel in your hair." Harry looked at her like she was insane, but complied. He at least had enough common sense to remove the black robe first and carefully coil an exhausted Blanche on top of it.

Several minutes later, a very sudsy and rather amazed Harry Potter rinsed his hair out (which was not an easy feat, seeing as there was an enormous amount of the tangled black stuff) and took up the bar of white stuff which Nagini had referred to as 'soap'.

"Now what?"

"Rub that bar all over your body." More bubbles appeared, and Harry ended up having much more fun then one probably should taking a bath.

Finally, one entire bottle of shampoo and nearly all of one bar of soap, Harry was clean and rather pruney. Not having taken more then a dip in the occasional freezing stream since he was four, the sensation was rather strange for him. He climbed out of the tub, hair brushing the ground behind him, and dripped all over the floor. He rung his hair out over the tub before going to exit the bathroom.

Seeming to have forgotten that in the human world, clothing was mandatory, Nagini snagged him around the waist and stopped him before pointing at the discareded robe.

Harry sighed, lifting the sleeping white snake from the nest of black cloth and settling her about his shoulders again before sweeping the robe over his body once more, carefully latching the clasps like he had been shown.

Nagini followed after him as he left the room, four metres of thick sinewy cobra that seemed to rather unnerve everyone that saw her. Harry couldn't remember ever being scared of her, but he supposed that she did make a rather fearful sight.

"Harry, my boy. You look much better now." Nagini translated the headmaster's words to him, and he nodded noncommittally. Madam Pomfrey motioned him back over to a bed, and waved something that had bristles on it. He glanced at her suspiciously.

"What in the world is that thing?" He asked Nagini.

"It's a hair brush. Don't worry, it's not very dangerous." Harry shrugged and sat down on the bed, still getting use to being in human form again. He had found out rather quickly that somehow the Headmaster had managed to keep him in this shape when he had tried to change back. All he got was a shock of pain and a lecture on keeping his humanity intact.

He had thrown one hell of a fit.

A few seconds into the mediwitch's attack, 'not very dangerous' seemed to be thrown completely out the window. It hurt and it didn't help that there was around one and a half metres of the tangled stuff. Tears collected in his eyes, and he had to reign in the urge to bite the witch. Damn it, wasn't there magic for this sort of thing?

Of course, not being able to communicate with the general human population beyond nodding or shaking his head, he wasn't able to express his thoughts. And especially painful tug made him hiss in pain, and he tried to push the witch away from him.

"Now, now deary. Hold still." She wrenched him back down into his seat, and got a face full of angry cobra for touching him.

Eyes wide, she backed away slowly. Nagini reached out with the end of her tail and snagged the hairbrush out of her unresisting hand and nudged Harry around with one of her coils.

"Lovely, calm down. They won't leave you alone until this is finished. I'll be careful." Harry glared at her balefully, but turned to give her better access to his locks.

She was much more careful than Pomfrey had been, starting at the bottom to work out the kinks before working up higher. Harry had to wonder why a snake would know more about brushing hair than a female witch.

Or maybe she just doesn't care if she hurts you. Harry thought. After all, if the staff's reaction to his appearance had been any sign, none of them were too fond of him.

It took a good four hours to brush his hair out, and when it was done, it was so very long that it dragged on the floor behind him. He wished that it didn't have the strange habit of growing back every time they tried to cut it. It was like a living thing with a mind of it's own.

Harry had settled for having Pomfrey braid it tightly so that it was at least short enough that he could walk without it catching on things.

Dumbledore sat down across from him on a chair, his eyes twinkling. He was talking again, and all Harry managed to do was stare blankly at him, waiting for Nagini to translate.

"I couldn't really get that last bit, but I think he said something to the effect of a translation spell. I believe he finally caught on that you can't exactly understand him." Harry threw his hands up in the air.

"He finally got it, did he? I thought you said that Dumbledore was suppose to be at least semi-smart?"

"Hm, well I take that back. He might just be rather insane with a rather large lucky streak." Harry snickered, a rather disturbing sound coming from a human that only spoke Parsel.

He nodded at the Headmaster, gesturing for him to go ahead. He wanted to be able to understand what was going on around him. The wizard smiled and waved his wand around, before touching it to Harry's throat. A warm tingling diffused, leaving behind a slightly uncomfortable constricting feeling. Harry grumbled something, and started when it came out in the strange human tongue.

"Can you understand me?" Dumbledore asked him.

"Yess." Harry said, his voice still heavily accented.

"Good, good. Now, on to more pleasant matters. You will of course be staying here for the summer so that we can catch you up on your magical training. Then you will attend school here, starting September 1 this fall." Harry continued to stare at him blankly.

"Does he really think he can just barge into my life and tell me what to do?" Harry asked Nagini, switching back to his more familiar language.

"Of course, that's the way wizards are." Her liquid golden eyes sparkled with mirth.

"Why?" He asked simply. Dumbledore seemed at a loss for words.

"What do you mean, why? Don't you want to stay here, Harry?"

"Of coursse not. What lead you to believe I did in the firsst plassce?" He asked with what might be considered a rather incredulous tone. "I wass perfectly happy where I wass."

"Well, my boy," Harry was beginning to get extremely irritated with that reference to his person, "You are not a wild animal to be living in the wilderness. You can't possibly expect us to leave you there." Harry's serpentine eyes flashed with fury.

"Where were you when I wasss left to die at the age of four?" His 'S'es were drawn out more in his anger. "My 'Uncle' left me for dead in a foressst during the winter! Left me to freezzze to deattth, and the only one thhhere to sssave me wasss Nagini! Tom Riddlesss' familiar!" Harry gave Nagini a soft look to show he meant her no offence. Dumbledore's eyes dulled at this outburst. He knew he should have checked on the boy more often, but he had assumed that he would be safe with his family. And now, because of his carelessness, the boy looked like a fourteen-year-old version of Tom Riddle right before his downfall (minus the long hair) and had the same bitter jaded attitude.

How was he to deal with him? They needed him now more than ever, as Voldemort had returned and was more powerful than before. That had been the main reason he had upped the search for the Boy-Who-Lived.

Dumbledore glanced at the large black cobra that was rubbing Harry's back in soothing motions with her coils and whispering quietly to him in the snake's tongue. The old headmaster narrowed his eyes at her. He would have to figure out a way to get rid of that abomination, the Dark Lord's familiar was the last thing they needed around. Who knew what kind of dark magics he could work through her?

He was actually rather surprised Voldemort hadn't found them first, seeing as it was his familiar that had raised the boy.

Maybe some good influences. Dumbledore considered. He knew quite a few decent and wonderfully stubborn Gryffindor children Harry's age that would be enamored at the chance to help him with his newest project.

But first, that snake face would have to go.

"Harry, dear child, I am so very very sorry for the wrongs that have been done against you. If I had known, you would never have been left with your relatives." Harry looked rather disbelieving. The aged wizard had to stifle a cringe at the boys reptilian eyes. Yes, definitely had to go. "I think that some human company your age would do you a load of good." This sparked Harry's curiosity. The only other human his age he could ever even vaguely remember being around was his whale cousin which had been some ten years ago.

"That would be... Acsseptable." He replied.

"Wonderful! Classes should be out by now, I'll go see about that in a minute. Why don't we just fix your appearance up, hmm?" The serpentine boy eyed him suspiciously.

"What do you mean, 'fixss my appearancsse up?' What'ss wrong withh it?" The headmaster motioned to his face.

"Due to current... World affairs, the way you look now will cause some people to fear you and even wish to destroy you." Dumbledore didn't elaborate.

"What does he mean, due to current world affairs?" Harry asked Nagini.

"My last master, Tom, looked much like you do now. He also spent a great deal of time in serpent form. Many feared and hated him, and if from what I've gathered and heard rumored, he has returned."

"So they only want me back because I was the only one that was able to kill him last time?" Nagini had told Harry as much as she knew about Voldemort's downfall, including his involvement in it.

"Most likely."

"As much as I hate it here, it might be beneficial for me to stay and learn magic."

"Agreed." Harry absently rubbed Blanche who stirred around his throat, nuzzling him gently before returning to sleep.

"Fine. Be quick about it." Once again a few muttered words and a few flicks and swishes later, he was handed a small mirror. His eyes were no longer slitted, but had round human pupils, his nose was less flat and his face less triangular. He opened his mouth, afraid to see what was inside, but his fangs still snicked down into place. He smiled happily, not noticing Dumbledore's expression. "Thiss will do for now."

"Excellent. I'll just be right back." Purple robes swished behind the older wizard as he moved towards the door. "Oh, and Harry? Could Nagini go somewhere else for a bit? She might scare the children." Harry glanced at Nagini who was glaring at the headmaster again. She complied, however, and slid off the bed to go curl up underneath another at the far side of the infirmary.

Dumbledore was back within minutes, three children in tow. One girl and two boys.

"This is Hermione Granger," he gestured to the one with wide brown eyes, a heavy bag filled to bursting with books, and wild frizzy brown hair, "Ronald Weasley," now he motioned to the one with a shock of flaming red hair an more freckles than stars in the sky, "and Neville Longbottom." This one looked rather clammy, and his hands shook. "Miss Granger, and Misters Longbottom and Weasley, meet Harry Potter." Harry inclined his head towards the group.

"Wicked! Are you really?" The one with flaming hair, quickly sat down in a chair next to his bed. Harry gave him a strange look.

"Who elsse would I be?" Neville stuttered something unintelligible. "What wass that?" Harry asked him.

"W- Why do you talk l- l- like that?" Harry noticed the witch named Hermione studying him with sharp eyes.

"I wass raissed by sserpentss. Parsseltongue wass the only language I knew for ten yearss." Neville blanched and looked as though he were about to topple over. Hermione quickly shoved him down into a chair before taking a seat herself.

"Only He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can speak to snakes." Hermione said. Ronald looked rather pale also, and was looking at the headmaster like he was mad. Dumbledore chose this time to intervene.

"It is my belief that when Voldemort attempted to kill Mr. Potter, resulting in his downfall thirteen years ago, some of his powers were transferred to him through his scar. His ability to talk to snakes does not make him evil." Harry refrained from snorting, and wondered if it was only him that heard the insincerity in the older wizard's voice during that last bit.

Hermione continued to stare at him thoughtfully, Neville looked rather pale still, and Ronald's face was turning a rather magnificent shade of puce.

"Your letting a bloody Parselmouth into the school that has some of You-Know-Who's powers? Are you insane? After the last bloody one killed my goddamn sister?" Harry winced.

"Language, Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore's eyes flashed. "It is not Mr. Potter's fault that Voldemort's diary killed your sister. You will refrain from blaming those who do not deserve your ire."

"Why do ssome of you not call him by hiss name?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject while making a mental note to find out just how Voldemort had returned later.

"Only those who do not fear him speak his name. It is silly, as fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself." Harry nodded. Ronald was still fuming, staring sulkily at his feet.

"I am ssorry for the losss of your nesst mate, Ronald Weassley." Harry said quietly. He didn't need to make any unnecessary enemies until he knew more about this world. Ronald glanced up, still looking rather angry, but not at him anymore.

"I- It's not your fault, mate. I'm sorry I blew up, and- Ron's fine. 'Ronald' makes it sound like I'm in trouble." Harry was confused, as he had no idea how a name could make someone feel any differently, but didn't push it.

"Professor, what's going to happen to Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Harry will be starting school next year with his fellow fifth years. We are going to catch him up on as much of his schooling as possible before then." She nodded, and after a moment her eyes lit up.

"Could I help, Professor?" Dumbledore chuckled.

"I think that could be arranged, Miss Granger." Harry's stomach chose that time to let out a rather loud rumbled, and Ron grinned at him and Neville gave him a rather wane smile.

"That's the spirit, mate." Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'boys.'

"Harry, are you up to eating with the rest of the school?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Harry, on the other hand, wasn't so sure that was a good idea. After all, he preferred his meals alive and struggling, and he wasn't so sure how well that would go down with the rest of the school.

"Ah, I thhink-"

"Wonderful! If you'll just follow me..."

The headmaster took off at a quick pace, and Harry sighed, resigning himself to just finding something later in the forest.

Neville and Ron stood up, beginning a lively chat with each other over something that was called 'Quit-itch' and Hermione dropped back, walking beside him. She was still studying him with a rather calculating gaze, and he was starting to get unnerved.

"What?" He finally snapped, sneering at her. He was having a rather bad day already, and was tired of humans and their strange behavior.

"You probably don't eat mash potatoes and meat pies, do you?" She asked, not seeming fazed by his harsh tone.

"No, I don't." He sighed. He should probably try to be nice to this one, as she seemed the most reasonable and least prejudiced of any human he had met so far.

Dinner was an absolute disaster. Having his hair pulled back in a braid left his scar very visible to the whole of the Hogwarts population. It didn't take long before whispers spread like fire from where he was seated, and people were standing up in their seats, craning their necks to get any sort of view of him. Dumbledore announced his presence, periwinkle eyes twinkling, and the noise in the Great Hall increased ten fold.

Harry's stomach spent the entire time being nauseated, and he had to forcefully restrain himself from vomiting. He tried a few bites of a semi-rare steak that wasn't to bad, but couldn't force anything else down. There seemed to be no plain water in sight, and the thick sickly orange pumpkin juice made him want to gag.

About halfway through, Blanche got tired of all of the attention directed at her 'brother' and decided, against Harry's warnings, to stop it herself if he wouldn't. The entire school was in an uproar, first years tumbling out of their seats and running out of the hall. Ron looked pale and scared, Neville fainted. Harry's head throbbed. He couldn't take anymore of this, and stood up, stalking out of the hall with Hermione fast on his heals.

Harry had absolutely no clue where he was going, just knowing he didn't want to be here.

"What is wrong, Harry?" Blanche hissed softly into his ear.

"Humans." The small white snake giggled, nuzzling his ear.

"Harry! Wait up!" Hermione shouted from down the hall.

"Yess?" He asked, pausing to let her catch up.

"I'm sorry about what happened in there." He eyed her thoughtfully.

"Do not apologizze for what iss not your fault." She nodded, allowing the subject to drop, sensing he didn't want to talk about it further.

"Where are you going?"

"To find ssomethhing to eat." He smiled rather wickedly at her, and she paled. "Sstill want to follow me?" She nodded, looking resolute, and followed him in silence.

"Who is your friend, Harry?" Red eyes appraised the fuzzy haired girl that walked beside him.

"Her name is Hermione." He hissed back, giving the aforementioned girl an amused glance when she started.

"What are you saying?" She asked curiously, not seeming very bother by the snake language.

"Sshe assked your name." Hermione gave the tiny albino cobra a tentative smile.

"My name is Hermione, and you are..."

"Blanche." Harry supplied.

"I am pleased to meet you, Blanche." Harry translated this to his 'sister'. The snake hissed back, pushing herself off of Harry's shoulder and slithering down his arm.

"Sshe ssayss the pleassure is herss. May sshe?" he lifted his arm and Hermione hesitantly put her own out, and gasped as the snake wound herself up and over the her shoulders. The brown haired witch ran a gentle finger over the cobra's white hood, and smiled when it pushed against her hand like a kitten.

"She's beautiful." She whispered. Harry smiled and they continued on their way, finally reaching an open window close enough to the ground that Harry could jump out, tugging his new found friend with him.

They walked briskly to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, as Harry wasn't really sure how long it would take Dumbledore to come after them, and he was really really hungry.

"Wait here." Hermione sat, resting against a rock at the edge of the forest. This would be so much easier if I could change, Harry thought rather annoyed. Even with that, it still only took him a few minutes of sitting still to catch a smallish rabbit, bite it, and returned, sitting down next to the girl.

"Blanche, come here. Are you hungry?" Blanch quickly slithered off of Hermione's shoulders, eagerly settling in his lap, mouth open like a baby bird. Harry looked around, and grumbled, realizing he had absolutely no way to cut a chunk off the rabbit for Blanche.

"Do you have ssomething ssharp?" He asked the fuzzy haired witch, and she gave him a strange look, but took out her wand and transfigured a stone into a crude knife. "Thankss."

"No problem." He quickly sliced a rather large chuck out of it's flank and held it up for Blanche to eat. She snapped it up, working the morsel down her throat.

Harry wondered just how he was going to manage this in his human body, but shrugged and attempted to see if he could unhinge his jaw in this form too. He carefully opened his mouth as wide as he could, and with a sickening pop felt his jaw drop out of place. Hermione watched in morbid fascination as he lifted the rabbit to his mouth and swallowed it whole, something that no human should ever be able to do.

When he was done, he wiped the traces of blood that had spilled from the gash on it's thigh from his mouth, grabbed his jaw with his hands and snapped his mouth shut forcefully, pushing the thing back into place with an equally sickening sound.

He turned and gave Hermione a rather lazy smile, feeling sated and full. Even though he had eaten earlier today, it seemed like much longer and the day had been stressful. He lifted the small white cobra up and draped her body around his shoulders, before offering Hermione a hand up.

She gapped at the appendage, before seeming to wake up and grasped it rather weakly, allowing him to pull her up.

"Sstill want to get to know me?" He had to give her credit. She shook off the shock of what had just happened, nodding firmly at him.

"You can't scare me off that easily, Harry Potter."

Chapter 4: The Slytherin Side of the Hall  
Love of a Snake  
Chapter 3: The Slytherin Side of the Hall  
Age 14 Tuesday May 21, 1995  
Harry stretched rather languidly, feeling Nagini stir about him. Blanche was curled on his pillow, triangle head tucked neatly under a coil. Today they were going to get his wand and supplies from 'Diagon Alley' or some such place. He had to admit he was rather excited.

He rolled out of bed, strands of hair that had come loose from his braid falling around his face. Trudging to the bathroom, he took a rather long shower (His new addiction) wrung his hair out, became completely baffled when it came to braiding the stuff again, tossed on a robe, and finally ended up tucking most of his hair into his hood (He'd find someone to braid it later) and padded barefoot out of his room, Blanche secured about his neck.

He absolutely refused to wear shoes, even on the freezing castle floors. The things made his feet hot and sweaty, and gave him blisters. He really didn't see what was so great about the damn things.

His room wasn't far from Dumbledore's, and he quickly found himself at the statue of the hideous wrinkled snarling thing that guarded the Headmaster's rooms. Of course, from there he was totally stumped. He stared at the stone creature blankly, debating his options.

Of course, after about ten minutes of waiting, he got rather bored, and decided that now was as good a time to explore the castle as any. If Dumbledore wanted him he could damn well come find him himself.

Harry wondered about, finally stumbling into a large room filled to the brim with books, books, and more books. He glanced around rather amazed. It seemed deserted, except for a boy with his head bent over a scroll in a far table in the corner. His hair was a pale silver color, and it shimmered with the sunlight that fell through the window.

The boy glanced up, seeming to sense his presence, and studied him with a cold calculating gaze. Harry padded over and sat down across from him, returning the stare.

"Harry Potter." Harry nodded. "You're wearing a glamor." He said flatly, in a practiced tone that almost hid his curiosity. Give him a few more years, and he would have it down perfectly. "Why?"

Harry shrugged, wondering how much he should tell this silver-haired boy. Dumbledore hadn't forbidden him to tell anyone, just told him some would be scared of him.

"Dumbledore ssays I have to. Ssays my appearancsse will causse fear in the general sstudent population. How can you tell?" The blond started, eyes widening slightly, obviously not expecting his voice to be thickly accented with Parsel.

"Father taught me how to recognize one, but I can't see through them yet like he can."

The boy leaned forward, squinting harder at him and slowly raising his hand towards Harry's face. Harry caught his wrist swiftly, with lighting fast reflexes.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to know what your real face is like." Harry studied him, looking for any sign of malice or ill intent, but still found only almost completely masked curiosity.

Slowly, he released the thin wrist, and the fingers continued forward. They ran along his jaw line, mapping out its more triangular shape, ghosting over his sharp cheekbones and flatish nose. The boy's eyes widened slightly at the nose, testing it's surface again.

"Good Gods." The boy whispered.

"I didn't catchh your name." Harry replied.

"Draco Malfoy." The darker haired boy nodded, the name didn't mean anything to him.

"What iss thiss placsse called?" Harry asked, gesturing to the room around them. Draco gave him a rather strange look.

"It's called a library."

"Hmm."

"You're a very strange person, Potter." Harry just nodded.

"Do you by chancsse know how to braid?"

"Why?" Draco asked, fiddling with the paper he had been working on before Harry had come in. Harry tugged his long mass of still damp hair out of his hood, allowing it to cascade to the floor and pool about his feet.

"Becausse I don't, and thiss sstuff iss bothering me."

"Why don't you cut it?"

"I've tried. It growss back." The blond gave him a weird look.

"That's generally what hair does, Potter." Harry gave him a withering glare.

"It growss back within the ssame day to the ssame lengthh."

"Strange." Draco moved to sit behind him, running deft fingers through the ebony locks. It only took him a few minutes, and soon he had a braid coiled at his feet instead of the messy locks that seemed bent on strangling him in the shower.

"Thankss." Draco nodded.

"You're probably tired of this question, but why do you speak like that?" Harry stared at him.

"I was dumped by my muggle Uncle in a foresst when I wass four. N-" Harry paused, and wondered just how risky it would be to tell Draco the name of the serpent that had raised him like his own mother. Draco raised a silver brow, waiting for him to continue. Throwing caution to the wind, he finished his sentence. "Nagini raissed me." No reaction. "Sshe'ss a King Cobra. The only language I sspoke for ten yearss was Parssel."

"And how did you come to speak Parseltongue in the first place, Potter? Only the Dark Lord can speak to snakes."

"Dumbledore believess that the night he tried to kill me he transsferred ssome of hiss power into me." Draco looked thoughtful.

"That sounds plausible, I guess." Suddenly a smirk tugged at the boy's mouth. "I can't imagine Dumbledore was too pleased with your situation or your many similarities to the Dark Lord."

"No, he wass not."

"I noticed you were sitting at the Gryffindor's table for dinner last night. Have you been sorted into that house?"

"What do you mean, ssorted?"

"Ah, I guess it was just Dumbledork's wishful thinking then. There are four houses. Have they explained this to you yet?" Harry shook his head.

"The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. I'm in Slytherin." Draco smirked proudly.

"Gryffindors are suppose to be brave, but a lot of them are just extremely stubborn and headstrong with a healthy dose of stupidity. Hufflepuffs are suppose to be loyal and hard working, Ravenclaws smart and studious. Slytherins are cunning and ambitious."

"How do they ssort you into thhesse houssess?"

"There's this hat that they put on your head when you first get here. It looks inside your mind and puts you where it deems you fit best." Harry nodded. "How old are you?" Draco asked, now not even bothering to hide his curiosity.

"Fourteen."

"Me too. You'll be in fifth year next year then." Again Harry just nodded. He already knew this. "I imagine you've come a bit late to start school this year."

"Harry, my boy!" Harry winced, and Draco gave him a sympathetic expression before turning back to his scroll. Harry turned slowly to see the wizard that was dressed in a ungodly yellow-orange robe with a smattering of what looked like hopping rabbits around the bottom. Harry sighed. Oh the irony.

"Have you had breakfast today, Harry?" Harry shook his head.

"I ate lasst night." Dumbledore looked confused.

"Surely you're hungry again this morning?"

"I only need to eat onssce a week."

"You didn't eat all that much last night, Harry. I don't really see how that's possible."

"I had a rabbit after dinner." Harry heard Draco snicker behind him at the Headmaster's expression.

"Ah..." Now it was Harry's turn to snicker.

"Ssnake got your tongue, Headmasster?" Dumbledore chose to ignore him.

"Well, come on then. Mustn't waste any time, we've got to be off to get your wand."

"Good bye, Draco." Harry stood, nodding at his companion.

"Nice meeting you, Potter." Harry followed Dumbledore out, his bare feet silent against the stone.

It took white haired wizard a few minutes to notice all Harry had on was a robe. He conjured a pair of leather shoes for him, and told Harry to put them on. Harry scowled, but complied.

It wasn't long before they were at the gargoyle once more, the password being 'ice mice.' (Harry had to refrain from licking his lips just to annoy Dumbledore even more, which was quickly becoming his favorite hobby.) They were seated in Dumbledore's office, and he was motioning over the same yellow tin he had used to transport Harry the first time, ("It's called a portkey, my boy. It will transport us directly to Diagon Alley.") when Harry remembered about Voldemort.

"Headmasster how did Voldemort return?" The man paused, setting down his wand, and looked at Harry with a thoughtful expression.

"When Voldemort was sixteen, he left a diary behind that contained a bit of his soul." Harry nodded, showing he understood. "We are not really sure how Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, found it, but two years ago it was placed in her possession. From what we have been able to gather, she was able to communicate with it, and over the period of the school year, it possessed her numerous times and sucked her dry of life and magic.

"Finally, it was able to extract itself from the diary, using young Ginny's life force and magic to build itself a new body. It rejoined with the rest of Voldemort's soul, making him corporeal and allowing him to become even more powerful than before." Harry's face soured.

"Nagini hass told me all about my role in hiss firsst defeat. I ssuposse thiss iss the main reasson you came looking for me in the firsst plassce."

"Of course not! I hope to be able to care for you like I would my own grandson!" Harry snorted. "We couldn't let Voldemort get his hands on you. To him you would have merely been a potion ingredient, a way for him to raise his power to new levels." Skeptical green eyes studied the Headmaster, still not believing the last part of his yarn, but deciding it didn't really matter. He was only here for the magical education, planning to disappear as soon as he learned as much as he considered helpful. He wasn't planning on helping the old coot in his war, he had lost that privilege when he had left him with those goddamn muggles. The headmaster didn't need to know this, however.

Harry didn't really know what to say to all this, so he just hummed noncommittally.

"If you have no more questions... No? Well," The headmaster brandished the yellow tin. "We're off then!"

The first stop was Madam Malkin's, which was an interesting experience. He forgot how modest humans were, and when she asked him to take off his robe so she could get his measurements, she blushed furiously at his bare skin.

Dumbledore quickly conjured a pair of shorts for him, sighing and shaking his head. After she had gotten over the first shock, the second ended up being the snake draped around his neck like an expensive necklace. She almost fainted, and the Headmaster had to ask Harry to remove Blanche for the time being, and Harry did, sending her off to explore the Alley for a bit. The final shock, and probably what would have ended up with him being kicked out if not for who he was and who he was with, came when she went to lift his braid and finally noticed the rather intricate diamond pattern that ran down his back. The same pattern that some cobras had decorating their own backs.

The witch had screeched and asked what creature in Hades had Dumbledore dragged into her shop? Dumbledore had finally just Obliviated her and placed a glamor over his back to prevent any further problems.

Harry was rather shocked at the underhand tactics, but didn't complain, and ended up with more cloths than he had ever seen in one place at once.

Their next stop was a book store by the name of Flourish & Blott's, where Dumbledore quickly bought all of his require text books for the first five years of Hogwarts, a stack of blank scrolls, and several quills and ink wells.

Finally, they reached Ollivander's. Harry had to keep himself from trembling with excitement. The strange fellow that owned the place rather unnerved him, but it didn't damper his mood. What did, however, was how long it took to find a wand that fit him. Hours they stood, as he tried out wand, after wand, after wand. Finally a wand was placed in his hand (holly, 11", supple, single phoenix tail feather), shooting warmth up through his arm. Dumbledore looked torn between resignation and shock. After Ollivander explained the significance of his wand, Harry was more amused than anything.

Harry noticed a shop named Magical Menagerie and asked politely if they could stop there quickly. He could hear a multitude of interesting animal noises coming from inside the shop and it made him long for home. The Headmaster allowed it, and Harry submerged himself into the chaotic noisy store.

He was met with and assortment of loud croaks, hoots, yowls, barks, and hisses among other things. Large purple toads sat in an aquarium to his right, fire-crabs (jewel encrusted tortoises) in a cage to his left. Streelers (large poisonous snails) crawled up another aquarium above the fire-crabs. Rabbits, ravens, puffskeins, and cats of every color were in various cages about the store. Harry felt his mouth water, even though he wouldn't be hungry for another six days or so. He nodded at the snakes, pausing to speak a few words with them. A kneazle nearly tripped him, its lion tail flicking back and forth as it chased after a black rat. Harry chuckled, pausing to watch as a tank full of large tarantulas with pink toes scurried to the far side of their cage when he was near.

He reached the back of the shop, a witch with heavy black spectacles sat at the counter, scribbling in some sort of book. She glanced up and smiled, asking what she could do for them.

"Jusst looking." She looked startled, her eyes flicking up quickly to his scar, and then to Dumbledore who was standing next to him.

"O- Okay." She nervously went back to her scribbling, but continued to shoot them furtive glances when she thought they weren't looking. On their way out, Harry spotted Blanch, slithering out from under a shelf.

"There you are. I was getting worried."

"You worry to much, Harry. The snakes here are rather dull."

"I know, I spoke to them for a bit."

At this point Dumbledore interrupted them to bid Harry not speak with Blanche in public when a witch had glared at him, ushering her children away. Harry had scowled right back, only to be yanked along by an impatient Headmaster.

Finally, they were headed back, with Dumbledore nipping into the Apothecary to buy him his potion supplies, and then they were portkey-ing into the Headmaster's office.

After all of his supplies had been placed in his room, Dumbledore sat him down and they created a rather rigorous schedule that would cover all important points in his magical training up so far so he would hopefully be able to join his classmates come the start of next year.

With that, Dumbledore left him with the strong suggestion that he start on his books, as they had only set two weeks maximum, less if they were lucky, for him to finish all of the first year material.

Harry found transfiguration extraordinarily easy, which when he discovered a mention in the first book on how advanced animagus transformations were, was not really surprised. He skimmed through the book, reading bits of theory, trying out most of the exercises, and found nothing he wasn't able to do. He continued this way, finishing the fourth year transfiguration book before it was time for bed, feeling exceptionally please with himself.

Nagini was curled up on his bed, long asleep, and he discarded his robe before climbing in next to her. It wasn't long before he fell asleep, a smile gracing his features.

Age 14 Wednesday May 22, 1995

Harry woke with a memory tugging at the edge of his mind, and went through his new morning routine of cleaning himself before it finally surfaced as he was trying to figure out once more what to do with his hair. He really needed to get someone to teach him how to braid the stuff. Maybe Draco will teach me.

He remembered Dumbledore saying something about him having a godfather. Quickly dressing, he glared at the buckled boots the Headmaster had bought for him, ignored them, and left his room with Blanch, barefoot once more.

As he turned the last corner, he met with the hook nosed man that had been with Dumbledore on that first day. (Had that really only been two days ago?) The man nodded at him stiffly, with a clipped greeting of, "Potter."

They continued in silence the last few metres down the corrode together before Harry whispered a quiet, "Issce Missce," allowing them up the spiraling stairs.

Harry lifted his hand to knock, when a "Come in, come in!" was shouted from inside. Harry noticed the greasy haired professor roll his eyes next to him and chuckled.

When they were seated, Dumbledore turned to him and asked, "What can I do for you, my boy?" Harry clenched his teeth so hard to keep from commenting, they made a squealing grind that made Snape glance at him sideways. Dumbledore's eyes continued to twinkle in their maddening way, and Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

"Headmasster, I remember you ssaying that I had a godfather here?" The man nodded, and Harry sensed a slight tensing in the professor seated next to him.

"Sirius Black." And now Harry could almost feel the angry curl of the dark haired Professor's lip, "He is on an errand for me at the moment, but he should be back within the next few hours."

The trill of a phoenix interrupted them, and Harry glanced sharply at the fire bird. The creature starred right back, cocking its head to the side as though it didn't seem to know what to make of him. Harry had the very strange and seemingly random urge to pick up one of the delicate tinkling whirring silver contraptions on Dumbledore's desk and chuck it at the flaming thing, if only to see what would happen. The bird let out an indignant squawk, and hopped about on it's perch, as though it knew what he was thinking. He shook his head and turned back to Dumbledore who was looking rather disapproving, once again, for the umpteenth time in the last few days.

"Thhank you, ssir. Would you be sso kind ass to inform me when he arrivess?" Dumbledore smiled at him, his beard twitching, and nodded. Harry quickly exited, wondering if it was late enough for him to find Draco or Hermione wondering about yet with a free period.

Lost in thought, he didn't really notice where his feet were leading him, and before he knew it, there were voices coming from down the hall. A very large crowd of voices, and checking his surroundings, realized he was near the Great Hall, and it was probably right around lunch time.

Did he want to brave it? Was seeing his new found 'friends' worth the nauseating smell of human food? He remembered the ruckus that he had caused on his last foray into the Hall. Unbidden, his feet drew him ever near to the happy chattering roar of the student body. Maybe just for a few minutes. He could just nip in, see Draco and Hermione really quick, and nip back out. Ask them to come meet him after class somewhere.

Harry slipped through the door way that he had been loitering next to, emerging on the Slytherin side of the room. He quickly found Draco's silver head, and the blond looked up to see him at nearly the same instant. He made a beckoning motion, scooting over to make room for him. Harry noticed the Hall was rather quiet all of a sudden, something that seemed to be a rather normal occurrence around him.

Sliding in next to Draco, he glanced around to see everyone staring at him with a varying degree of masked emotions.

"Potter, this is Blaise Zabini," The tall black boy with high cheek bones and long slanting eyes that were a rather brilliant and unusual gold color in front of Harry nodded. "Pansy Parkinson," Draco gestured to the girl on the opposite side of him who leaned forward to get a better look at him and who looked like she had run rather hard into a wall at some point in her life, "Tracey Davis," The girl to the right of Harry wearing a rather thick rimmed set of heavy specks and reading a book lifted a few fingers in the air to acknowledge she was listening, "Daphne Greengrass," The girl to Blaise's left who's hair was a shocking shade of maroon nodded, "My personal body guards Vince Crabbe," the stocky boy to the right of Blaise with a bowl cut was indicated, but to busy eating to notice much was going on, "and Greg Goyle." The one to Crabbe's right who was also in a similar predicament, eating as though it was his last day alive, and who was just as stocky, if not a bit shorter, and who's hairline seemed to extend all the way down to his eyebrows. "Oh and that," Draco gestured down the table a few people to where a weedy boy was sitting, seemingly immersed in his meal, pick at it in a rather weird manner, "Is Theodore Nott. He's a loner, and rather strange."

"Harry Potter. Nissce to make your aquantanssces." He nodded politely at the surrounding fourth years, amused at their varying reactions to his thick sibilant accent.

"Harry?" Blanche asked, sounding rather groggy. The reactions went from amusing, to priceless. He wondered what they had been expecting from one who defeated the Dark Lord. Probably not what he was giving them.

"Morning, Blanche." Harry noticed he suddenly had Theodore Nott's attention from, his meal not so interesting after all. Mud colored eyes narrowed in his direction, and Harry smirked.

Other than Nott, the rest of the Slytherin fourth years, and many of the other years, seemed to be staring at him with something akin to hero worship. Which Harry decided, was rather ironic. He rather liked this table.

It definitely helped that they weren't reaching over him, scrambling, shouting, elbowing, or using various other means to obtain the food that had caused him so much more difficulty the day before. Being hit in the ear with mushroom gravy had most likely also contributed to his angry outburst that night. For all of their horror at his wild upbringing, they definitely acted more like crazed beasts than he ever had.

Well, besides Hermione, who he had just noticed across the hall, staring at him with a rather badly hidden hurt and betrayal glistening in her eyes before quickly glancing back down at her food when she saw him looking. Harry felt like thumping his head on the table.

"P- Potter! How did you- How can you-" Daphne sputtered, interrupting his thoughts.

"Very articulate, Greengrass." Draco drawled next to him, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. Her pale cheeks tinged red.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Was the mumbled response, and Daphne glowered at him.

And Dumbledore, lovely wonderful insane Dumbledore, entered the great hall at that moment, and paused upon noticing his choice of seating. Harry sighed, but starred stoically back, unblinking. Behind him trailed a man with shaggy black hair, and even from this distance Harry could smell dog and something else that might have been wolf but not strong enough for it to be the man's own scent.

Sirius Black indeed.

And Harry supposed, that if he could tell the man was an dog animagus from here, the man could probably tell he was a cobra. Harry stood, and motioned for them to follow him out of the hall, nodding to the Slytherins.

And then they were in front of him, and the man with shaggy black hair and fathomless grey eyes was wrapping him in strong arms, rocking back and forth, and sobbing. Harry stiffened, but the honest warmth and love that radiated from the man made him soften.

"Harry, Harry. Oh Harry, I'm so sorry. I'm so very very sorry." And he was, and it wasn't any of the Headmaster's fake bullshit, this man truly cared for him. Tentatively he wrapped his arms around the other's waist, and buried his face in the thick folds of the man's cloak.

For what had to be the fourth or fifth time, Blanche interrupted, throwing everyone around her for a loop. Poking her head out from under Harry's robe, where she had been curled, asked in a rather rude manner, why there was a mutt draped about Harry.

Sirius growled, and went as though to fling the snake across the room, but Harry slid under his grasp with liquid grace, and put a good few metres between them before stopping.

"Now Ssirius, just becausse you're my Godfathher doess not mean you have any right to kill my familiar." The man stood stock still, and Harry could see he recognized the accent. (Who didn't?) Narrowed eyes turned from him to Dumbledore, and in a menacing hiss, he asked, "What. Happened. To. My. Godson."

"Shall we take this to my office, gentlemen?" Harry nodded sharply, and Sirius scowled. Menace wafted off this man, strong and playable, along with danger and a hardness most people never obtained.

This would be interesting.

Chapter 5: Dog Stars and Death Flights  
Love of a Snake  
Chapter 4: Dog Stars and Death Flights  
Age 14 Wednesday May 22, 1995  
"He's got a bloody snake wrapped around his throat, and you have the audacity to tell me everything is all right? His english is worse than Voldemort's for Merlin's sake!"

Harry sat their, twiddling his thumbs, and listening to Sirius Black rant at the Headmaster, torn between cheering him on and pointing out that he was bloody well right here and could hear what the man was saying!

"What is the mutt shouting about?" Blanche was watching the rather one ended fight with amused red eyes.

"Sirius is angry because I can speak to you, among other things."

"Why?" Blanche asked, rather bewildered.

"Because, apparently in the Wizarding World, they think it's evil to be able to speak with snakes."

"Humans."

"My thoughts exactly."

"-he even smells like Voldemort!" Harry snorted. Sirius seemed to have finally remembered he was in the room, and turned on him. "What? What do you think is so goddamn funny?"

"Of coursse I ssmell like Voldemort. We're bothh ssnake amangi, or haven't you made that connection yet?" Harry paused for effect, watching the gears turn as he pieced it together. "If you really cannot sstand me, I haven't known of a godfather for fourteen yearss, I'm ssure a few more will not kill me." And the tiniest bit of bitterness tinged his voice, because even for those few short moments when this man had embraced him, he had felt a spark of something that might have been hope.

Sirius dropped to his knees in front of Harry, and took the small face in his hands, not seeming to notice where the tips of his fingers settled through the layer of glamor.

"Harry, I'm not mad at you," And the spark flared back to life, "I'm mad at that barking old codger over there. In fact, I was planing on offering you a place to live, if you'll have me." And now Harry gapped. He had only know the man for what, twenty minutes, and he was already offering up his home?

"I- I don't know what to ssay."

"Say yes, it's the least I can do to make up not being there for you for the last thirteen years." Harry pulled his face back and glanced at Dumbledore, who was smiling benevolently. Harry gestured to his face.

"Take it off. I want him to know what he'ss assking for. Everythhing."

"Harry-"

"No Ssiriuss, If you sstill want me after you ssee the true me, then we'll talk." He glared at the Headmaster more firmly, when the man seemed to pause. "Now!" He snapped, getting tired of Dumbledore's games.

Dumbledore sighed and waved his wand, and Harry felt a cool trickling as the glamor melted off of him. Sirius sat back, eyes wide. He turned and growled at Dumbledore, having yet anther thing to add to the supposed wrongs against his godson.

Slitted eyes made of poison studied his godfather, waiting for him to turn back around. Eventually he did, but seemed just a tad reluctant.

"I knew about the effects of staying in animagus for too long, other wise I would have-" Harry sensed a wave of bitter sadness and deeply ingrained pain float to the surface before it was ruthlessly squashed. "Well that's another story. You must have kept that shape for a good three years to have altered you appearance to that extent." Harry nodded, keeping his eyes firmly on the shaggy black head in front of him.

"Ssomething like that." And Harry saw the repressed shudder, suddenly feeling ashamed of his appearance for the first time he could remember. He turned his face away, pretending to be studying the portraits that adorned the walls, when he was really trying to keep his already blurry vision from blurring any further with tears.

Sirius seemed to see through his act, and he felt gentle callused hands grasp his face and tilt it back his direction. As though to prove that it wasn't disgusted by Harry, he pressed his forehead against his godson's.

"It's not your fault Harry. I'm sorry. You can't imagine how very sorry I am. I still want you to stay with me, don't worry. It's just going to take some getting use to, that's all." Harry nodded, and hastily dashed away the few salty drops that managed to spill down his face. Once again, he found himself tugged into the man's embrace, and the heady canine scent was swirling about him, and he felt the dam break and he sobbed, clutching the black folds for dear life. Sirius engulfed him in the warmth, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

Harry didn't even know why he was crying, he hadn't had that horrible of a life, except for a few vague memories of a small dingy dark space filled with spiders and dust, angry hateful relative, and green fire. For the most part, he had been raised by Nagini, who had been as kind an loving as any mother.

Sirius continued to rock him back and forth, whispering about how it would be all right because Uncle Padfoot was here, everything would be fine. Finally, Harry managed to quiet his sobs, hiccoughing a few times. He glared halfheartedly at the soaked spot he had left, before giving Sirius an apologetic glance.

"S- ssorry." He hissed softly.

"No need to be sorry, pup." Harry wondered if 'pup' was really a good term for him. He wasn't going to argue, at least not right now.

Harry moved back to the chair, feeling rather awkward, but happy. Dumbledore cleared his throat, and both Harry and Sirius scowled at him. The man replaced the glamor, and this time Harry took care to listen to the muttered spell, 'Peau Fausse.'

The strong dislike he had harbored for Dumbledore burst like a rotten overripe fruit, poisoning his mind with an angry simmering fury. Just that small thing, his need to make sure that Harry was in no way related to or otherwise associated with Voldemort because he had so little trust in him, (Rightfully so, but after leaving him to die with hateful Muggles, and then ripping him from his home when he found it convenient, he didn't really deserve it in Harry's opinion.) sprouted the first seeds that would later lead to the man's demise. At Harry's hands of course, if he could help it.

A frigid smile stretched his face, chilling Sirius and dulling the Headmaster's twinkle.

"If that iss all?" Dumbledore sighed, and nodded. Harry swept past Sirius, who gave him a reassuring smile. Harry returned it with a much warmer version of the expression his face had held moments earlier.

Harry descended the stairs, remembering the look Hermione had given him at lunch, and set off to find the first human friend he had ever made.

Voldemort sat in his office, feet propped up on his desk, rereading the report he had just received from Lucius while rolling the memory sphere that had been attached in his spidery fingers. It held some disturbing information, but it also held a few shreds of hope.  
Harry Potter had been found, it seemed. He wasn't sure how Dumbledore had made it to the boy first, as by all rights the Dark Lord should have found him long ago if any of the information in Malfoy's report was to be believed.

Draco, having met the boy had instantly written to his father, including a copy of his memory of the event in a memory sphere for Lucius' and Voldemort's benefit.

Voldemort tapped the sphere, activating it before being pulled in.

Draco was bent over his Charm's homework at a secluded table in the Hogwart's library, adding the last few sentences to the scroll before a barefoot black haired boy strode in, glancing about with barely hidden amazement. Voldemort instantly recognized the telltale shimmer that accompanied glamor charms stretched over the boy's face like a shiny mask. Draco glanced up, studying the boy with a calculating gaze.

The black haired boy met his stare, and came to sit across from the blond, feet barely making a whisper of sound as he walked.

"Harry Potter." The boy nodded. "You're wearing a glamor. Why?" Now that he was closer, Voldemort was able to lean in and see through it completely. What he saw made him almost stumble in shock. This boy could be his twin, his face held the same triangular shape that accompanied most venous snakes and suggested Harry Potter had poison of his own. His nose wasn't quite as flat as Voldemort's, but that was due to the fact that long drawn out animagus transformations hadn't been the only thing that he had done to alter his body. His eyes were slitted, and a brilliant Avada green that rivaled his own at that age. The hair was much longer, but that was a trivial thing.

And the voice...

"Dumbledore ssays I have to. Ssays my appearancsse will cause fear in the general sstudent population. How can you tell?" Voldemort barely noticed Draco start, so enraptured he was with Harry.

"Father taught me how to recognize one, but I can't see through them yet like he can." Came the aristocratic voice.

Draco leaned forward, squinting harder at Harry and slowly raising his hand towards Harry's face. Harry caught his wrist swiftly, with lighting fast reflexes.

"What are you doing?" Reptilian eyes narrowed.

"I want to know what your real face is like." After a moment, Harry seemed to be satisfied with this answer, and allowed Draco's careful exploration of his face.

"Good Gods." The boy whispered.

"I didn't catchh your name." Harry replied.

"Draco Malfoy." The darker haired boy nodded.

"What iss thiss placsse called?" Harry asked, gesturing to the room around them. Draco gave him a rather strange look.

"It's called a library." And only now did the Dark Lord realize just how much Harry had missed, being left with those horrid muggles. He inwardly snarled, feeling a strange sort of kinship with this boy, something he had not expected.

"Hmm." The green eyed boy hummed absently in acknowledgment.

"You're a very strange person, Potter." Harry just nodded.

"Do you by chancsse know how to braid?" The blond gave him a weird look.

"That's generally what hair does, Potter." Harry gave him a withering glare.

"It growss back within the ssame day to the ssame lengthh."

"Strange." Walking around the table to get a better view of the boy, Voldemort noticed just how much hair was tucked into the hood.

"Why?" Draco asked, and Harry tugged a seething mass of thick luscious hair from where it was collected. It cascaded to the floor and pooled about his feet.

"Becausse I don't, and thiss sstuff iss bothering me."

"Why don't you cut it?"

"I've tried. It growss back." Draco moved to sit behind him, running deft fingers through his ebony locks. It only took him a few minutes, and soon Harry had a braid coiled at his feet.

"Thankss." Draco nodded "You're probably tired of this question, but why do you speak like that?" Harry stared at him.

"I was dumped by my muggle Uncle in a foresst when I wass four. N-" Harry paused, probably assessing the risk of telling Draco the name of the snake who had raised him, "Nagini raissed me. Sshe'ss a King Cobra. The only language I sspoke for ten yearss was Parssel." And now Voldemort was furious, rage bubbling and beating his thoughts into an angry incensed outrage. He barely heard the Malfoy heir's next words, already busy plotting a certain muggle's messy painful demise.

"And how did you come to speak Parseltongue in the first place, Potter? Only the Dark Lord can speak to snakes."

"Dumbledore believess that the night he tried to kill me he transsferred ssome of hiss power into me." Draco looked thoughtful.

"That sounds plausible, I guess." Suddenly a smirk tugged at the boy's mouth. "I can't imagine Dumbledore was too pleased with your situation or your many similarities to the Dark Lord."

"No, he wass not." What about you, Harry, are you displeased with your situation?

"I noticed you were sitting at the Gryffindor's table for dinner last night. Have you been sorted into that house?" And Voldemort certainly couldn't see this boy in Gryffindor. This boy who he had to keep reminding himself was Harry Potter, darling of the wizarding world, Boy-Who-Lived, prophesied savior. This boy who would most certainly not end up anywhere else if Dumbledore had any say in things.

"What do you mean, ssorted?"

"Ah, I guess it was just Dumbledork's wishful thinking then. There are four houses. Have they explained this to you yet?" Harry shook his head.

Draco went on to explain about the houses and how the sorting worked, and what year they would be in. Then Dumbledore had to make his appearance.

"Harry, my boy!" Harry visibly winced, and both Draco and Voldemort gave him a sympathetic glance. The old coot was dressed in robes a god awful garish yellow-orange that most likely would glow in the dark, given the chance. Harry seemed to sigh.

"Have you had breakfast today, Harry?" Harry shook his head.

"I ate lasst night." Dumbledore looked confused.

"Surely you're hungry again this morning?"

"I only need to eat onssce a week." And Voldemort had to keep himself from gaping like an idiot.Interesting that my appearance is farther along, but that Harry's internal functions seemed more advanced.

"You didn't eat all that much last night, Harry. I don't really see how that's possible." How daft can this man be? Did I over estimate him? Has his mental stability plunged even further from the last time we met?

"I had a rabbit after dinner." Draco snicker behind him and Voldemort couldn't help but chuckle a bit himself at the Headmaster's rather priceless expression. The bunny rabbits that decorated the hems of Dumbledore's robes seemed to hide in the folds of the garment at this pronouncement.

"Ah..." Now Harry snickered.

"Ssnake got your tongue, Headmasster?" Dumbledore ignored the comment.

"Well, come on then. Mustn't waste any time, we've got to be off to get your wand."

"Good bye, Draco." Harry stood, nodding at his companion.

"Nice meeting you, Potter." Harry followed Dumbledore out, leaving Draco and Voldemort to their thoughts. The Dark Lord found himself once more seated in his office, mind churning with more questions than when he had started.

Voldemort fingered his own face, much prettier than it could have been, he had to admit. No telling what he would have looked like if he had been forced to create a completely new body. Two years ago, he had walked away from the Chamber of Secrets, young, whole, and ready to give the world another taste of Lord Voldemort.

His appearance had begun to alter during those years, his soul manipulating it to a more comfortable and familiar fit. He looked eighteen, he felt eighteen, but his face (among other things) was that of Lord Voldemort, not an eighteen year old Tom Riddle.

Potter, Potter. And Harry was indeed an enigma, and Voldemort couldn't figure him out. Absently he prodded Lucius' report with thirteen inches of yew, making the vowels scuttle about, as the y's rather viciously chased them off the page.

And all that power. Even through Draco's memory he had been able to feel it, radiating off the boy. An animagus by at least eleven if his altered appearance was much to go on.

There was so much potential, which could be used against him... Or for him. Together, they could be unstoppable. A cold smile tugged at the corners of his lips, ideas whispering themselves into existence.

Finally taking notice of the now ruined report, he crumpled it up and tossed it into the fireplace.

Harry had made it an entire twenty metres before realizing he had absolutely no idea where he would find Hermione. He didn't know enough about her to even begin to know where to start.  
He knew she was a Gryffindor. To his chagrin, he realized that was about the extent of his 'Hermione' knowledge. He didn't know where the Gryffindors lived, or even if they lived together.

Angry, depressed, and feeling rather muzzy for some reason, he decided to go seek out Nagini, as he hadn't spent all that much quality time with her lately, and he missed her.

He turned around and headed back to his room, finding Nagini still curled on his bed where he had left her. She stretched, giving him a contented sleepy look. He pulled off his robe and climbed back into bed, and she wrapped warm heavy coils around his human body. Oh how he wished he could just be a snake again. Life was so much simpler then.

And he would be one again, once he figured out how to get the damn binding spell off himself. And the anger festered a bit more, Old Bastard. He hated Dumbledore, that was for certain.

"What's on your mind, love? You seem troubled." Harry sighed, inhaling the smell of sun baked scales, overlaying something potent that spoke of dark spaces, damp rotting leaves, and tangy venom.

"Nagi-" He drew off, not really know how to express everything on his mind. "I'm tired of it here, Dumbledore has blatant ulterior motives, he seems to want me to save the world and yet he cannot even stand the sight of my face!" Harry scrubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. "I can't transform, because of that bastard. I miss you, but you have to be confined to a room if you're to stay in Hogwarts and cannot follow me anywhere. I miss our home, where it was simple. I miss the eggs-" And a broken sob filtered up from Harry's throat, and Nagini tightened around him comfortingly. He harshly wiped them away; he had cried enough today. "H- He did something to them, didn't he? I was too frightened at the time, but I know something happened to them." Nagini gave him a sad look, but nodded her head. Harry found himself sobbing for the second time that day, clutching Nagini's thick black coils for dear life.

"Shhh, Harry dear. Everything will be just fine. We don't have to stay here if you don't want to, lovely."

And they didn't have to.

Harry sighed through the throbbing pain in his head and the choking hiccoughs that invaded his breathing. It was such a nice idea, just to up and leave. He could take his books with him, he had a wand. He knew about Diagon Alley now. There really wasn't much reason for him to stay.

But Hermione and Draco. What about them?

You haven't known them all that long. They'll be going home for the summer in a few weeks anyway.

And Sirius? The man offered you his home, and this is how you repay him?

I-

And how are you going to survive in the Forbidden Forest with out being able to transform?

I survived for ten years in a strange forest. Only a few of those was I able to become a snake. I'm sure I can do it again.

But this is the Forbidden Forest. It's forbidden for a reason.

Oh shut up.

You need to stop running away from your problems. Because that's all your doing: running away.

Harry shivered. That was all he had done his entire life, wasn't it? Run, Run, as fast as you can.

He would stay, for now. If only to prove he could. Dumbledore had probably done something to make sure he couldn't leave anyway. Scrubbing at his eyes, he sighed, allowing Nagini's warmth and the soft comforter and bed to lull him back to sleep.

Harry was sitting in a room made of stone. A raised dais was at the back, a large throne rising from it. The arms were made from snake backbones, the back was flared in an imitation of a cobra hood. A man sat completely cloaked in black robes, his hood shadowing his face except for the occasional glint of red, giving the eerie impression that that was all that was there.

A man with a tailored black robe stood in front of him. His hood was down, allowing a cascade of silvery hair down over his shoulders. The man held a white mask in one hand, and his wand in the other. As Harry watched the man moved closer tucking his wand away, and kneeling at the foot of the throne. He bowed his head, and Harry moved closer to hear what was happening.

"Rise, Lucius. Your information was very useful. You shall be rewarded, as shall your son." The man stood, nodding.

"Thank you, my Lord. You are most gracious."

"Is there anything else you wish to report?" Harry turned his serpentine eyes on the cloaked figure sitting on the throne. As he moved closer, a strange sensation filtered through his scar. Pain, yes, but not like it usually was. He'd had dreams before where his scar seared with a splitting agony, but they were always hazy, and tinged red. They were never this clear or real.

"No, my Lord." A thin long fingered hand appeared beneath a sleeve, waving a dismissal. Lucius bowed deeply once more before turning and leaving the room.

Harry was entranced by the glint of red under the hood. He was only about a metre away now. The man seemed to be lost in thought, fiddling with his wand. The tingling in Harry's scar increased, and it wasn't really unpleasant he decided. It was kind of like someone was massaging his brain with pins and needles, but not hard enough to hurt.

He was drawn closer by some unseen force, and suddenly red eyes snapped up to his face. Harry almost stumbled backwards, gasping. The man stood, and reached up to a hood that Harry hadn't even realized he'd had on. Slender pale fingers gently pushed Harry's hood back, and the red slitted eyes continued to stare at him, studying him closely. Harry wondered if his glamor followed him into his dreams; probably not if the intense burning stare was any indication.

And the man reached up and pushed back his own hood, reveling a thick head of black wavy hair, elegant arching brows, and a face that made Harry's eyes widen comically. It was like looking in a mirror that had been warped and bent. Staring at this man gave him a really strange feeling of déjà vu, as though he had met him before.

Obviously, this could be no one other than the infamous Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort placed either of his hands on the side of Harry's face and tears sprung to his eyes as a sizzling pain zinged down his spine, making him clench his eyes as the pins and needles in his brain began stabbing with much more vigor. Cool fingertips ghosted over his cheeks, brushing the salty tears away. The pain continued to increase, but at the same time, he couldn't find it in himself to pull away. His entire head throbbed, and he thought he might pass out, but lips were pressed against his scar, and it all stopped so abruptly it left him gasping.

Harry slowly glanced up into intense crimson eyes, and a whispered "Harry..."

Harry sat up so quickly he dislodged Nagini, and she hissed in annoyance. He pushed sweaty tangled sheets away. He needed to do something, he wasn't so sure he wanted to think about what he'd just dreamed.

This was the man that had killed his parents, for Hades' sake.

And Harry was his spitting image.

Shaking his head he clambered out of bed, and tugged open his trunk. Starting on his first year Charms book, he read long into the night.

Chapter 6: Three Old Crones  
Sorry about the wait! Oo This chapter is about half the usual length, because I have no inspiration. Deal with it.

Love of a Snake  
Chapter 5: Three Old Crones  
The next few weeks passed in a haze of studying, dodging Dumbledore, and hanging out with Draco, Hermione, and Sirius during Harry's waking hours. His dreams were filled with soft caresses, warm crimson eyes, and comforting embraces. He would wake feeling torn, and when ever he told Nagini, her golden eyes would bore holes in his own, and eventually she would hiss softly that he had to make his own choices, because he was the one that would have to live with them.

By his third week at Hogwarts, Harry had finished all of his Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts books. Hermione was absolutely ecstatic to have found someone that loved learning as much as she did. Sirius spent a good deal of time prodding him to do something else, usually something against the rules. Draco just smirked, and made comments about Harry making Slytherin House proud (Usually purposely with in Sirius' hearing range) even though Dumbledore had told him he wouldn't be sorted until next year.

Dumbledore discouraged Draco's presence as much as possible, which didn't really surprise Harry. After all, from what Harry had picked up, Slytherins where evil, Gryffindors were good, and that's just the way it was. Or at least that's the way it was according to the Headmaster. (Not directly from Dumbledore, per se, but it wasn't hard to tell that's what the man wanted him to think. First humans his age he had ever met had been Gryffindors, his godfather was very obviously anti-Slytherin, as was just about every other person Dumbledore forced on him. He was really getting tired of it. He failed to see how being cunning and ambitious made a person evil.)

Potions gave him a bit more trouble. It didn't help that most of it had to be done practical, and with a teacher watching to make sure he didn't kill himself. That teacher just happened to be Snape, who had after the initial shock, spent all of his time glowering at Harry no matter what face he had on. Sirius said that this was because Snape was a greasy git and had hated his dad.

But Harry wasn't James, and he wondered if Snape was really so blind as to not be able to see such a thing. Sometimes Harry wondered if it wasn't James that Snape saw, but Voldemort. Harry knew Snape was a Death Eater spy, or so Sirius had told him.

Sirius. Sirius was strange, he acted extremely immature most of the time, but occasionally Harry would catch him staring off into the distance, an expression of pain and loneliness so strongly etched into his features that it scared Harry. He would usually snap right out of it, smile sheepishly, and suggest an even more elaborate prank than the one they had pulled previously.

It had taken him two and a half weeks to get Sirius to tell him what had happened; why sometimes he looked as if everyone he had ever loved was dead.

He broke, and told a story of Azkaban, the wizard's prison. He told about Dementors, beings that stole your soul through your mouth, sucking it out in a parody of a kiss. Covered in scabs, with dead grey skin like that of a corpse, they were anyone's worst nightmare. Twelve years he had been entombed alive for a deed he had not committed. When he had escaped, he had come to Hogwarts, thinking Harry would be here.

He had not found Harry. Instead he had found his freedom in the form of one Ronald Weasley's pet rat. With the death of Peter Pettigrew, Sirius was a free man and had stayed to teach DADA at Dumbledore's request.

Sirius was the father, older brother, and favorite Uncle he never had, and Harry wouldn't have had it any other way.

Age 14 Monday June 12 1995

"Pleeeease? Pretty pretty please?" Harry rolled his eyes. Hermione had been begging to be let into his rooms for ever, and he didn't really know whether or not he wanted her in them. Only Draco had seen them so far.

He decided he was being rather irrational, so finally he relented.

"Fine." He snapped. She squealed with delight, bouncing on the balls of her feet, and followed him, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. They neared, and he whispered the password to the griffin portrait that guarded his room. Nagini was curled on his bed sleeping, but woke when he entered. Hermione gasped, and stumbled backwards, and the black cobra reared, flaring her rather impressive hood in shock.

Harry rolled his eyes again. Hermione knew of Nagini's presences, knew what kind of snake she was and how large she was. Hermione had just never met said snake. Nagini calmed down a bit, and narrowed her eyes at Hermione, who was cowering behind Harry.

"Hermione, thhiss iss Nagini, my ssurogate mothher. Nagini, thiss iss Hermione, my firsst human friend." Nagini slithered off the bed, her belly hitting the floor with a heavy sound. Harry could feel Hermione behind him, trembling and clutching his robe for dear life. The cobra moved across the room; the soft rasp of scales on the fur of his rug and then stone.

She rose slowly, standing nearly two metres tall, and looked the pale Hermione in the eye. Harry could feel Hermione's fingers digging through his robes, and it was beginning to hurt.

Harry winced as the fingers dug even further into his tender flesh, and glared at Nagini.

"Stop scaring the poor girl or she's going to rip out a chunk of my skin." Nagini made a hissing chuckle, and gave the snake's equivalent of a smirk.

"She will do."

"I'm so glad I have your approval." Harry rolled his eyes. "'Mione, can you pleasse releasse me? Sshe'ss not going to hurt you, but if you continue like you are now, you mosst definitely are going to hurt me." Hermione let out a squeak, and let go like she had been burned.

"Sorry!" She blushed furiously, wringing her hands. "I- it's nice to meet you, N- Nagini." Nagini butted her head against Hermione's shaking hand in greeting. The bushy haired girl ran the trembling clammy appendage hesitantly over the snake's scaly head. Nagini seemed to be doing her best now to look harmless, and Hermione calmed a bit, continuing to stroke the pitch scales.

Harry smiled while trying to covertly rub his sore back.

"Potter!" There was a muffled shout, followed by a rough knocking on his portrait. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. He had forgotten that Draco was suppose to help him study Potions tonight, and Harry had found out the hard way that Draco and Hermione did not get along. Ever. "Open up! I know your in-"

With a sigh, Harry swung the portrait open to glared exasperatedly at Malfoy.

"Yeeeess?" Draco glared back, seeing Hermione standing behind him.

"Why is the Mud-" Harry's frown intensified, and Draco paused. "-Muggleborn here? Have you forgotten about our study session, Potter?"

"Actually, yess I had." Harry said snottily, mainly to annoy the blond.

"When I take precious time out of my day to tutor you, I expect-" Harry waved him off.

"Yess, yess, your a Malfoy, yadda, yadda." Another eye roll. Harry had heard the spiel, more times than he cared to count, and as always, Draco looked highly offended that Harry had dared to interrupt his self important speech.

"If you are going to waste my time with your petty insults," Draco turned his rather pointy nose up in the air, "then I shall leave you to wallow in the mud." He shot another filthy look at the Gryffindor behind Harry. "Let me know when you feel like dragging yourself back to civilized company." He turned on his unnaturally polished patented leather shoes, and strode off. Harry sighed, slamming the portrait behind him. Why do I put up with that spoiled brat again? Oh yes, because he's the best in Potions in the year, and more bearable than Snape. Harry's temples throbbed, and he turned around to see a dejected Hermione slumped against his bed, trying to hide silent tears. Harry scowled. Damn you Draco. That bastard needed a good talking too.

Harry sank down next to Hermione, and serpents being rather touchy feely, if not necessarily affectionate creatures, he pulled the girl into his lap and snaked pale arms about her. It had taken Hermione a while to get use to his almost complete disregard for personal space, but after the few weeks they had spent together, she had accepted it as apart of who he was. She wrapped her arms around his neck and burred her face in his robes.

Not knowing what to say, Harry just rocked her back and forth, petting her mane of hair in what he hoped was a soothing manner. Harry glanced up to see Nagini looking rather sour.

"That boy is insufferable. I fail to understand why you are friends with him."

"I was kind of wondering that myself."

"This one would make a better mate for you anyway." Harry choked.

"Er-" Harry was at a loss of how to explain to Nagini that he had no interest in Hermione what so ever, but thankfully Hermione chose that time to lift her head and scrub the remaining tear tracks from her face with her sleeve.

"What are you saying?" She attempted to slide out of his lap in an unobtrusive manner.

"Ah-" Harry blinked at her. "Nagini thhinkss you would make a good mate."

Hermione blushed a bright crimson, and hid a giggle. Harry didn't really see what was wrong with this, he rather thought it was a compliment. Harry gave Nagini an inquisitive look.

"Humans tend to be more uncomfortable about their mating habits. Especially the younger ones."

"Oh." Harry still felt puzzled, but let it drop.

Hermione seemed to have forgotten about Draco, and for that Harry was glad. That little shit really needed to get his platinum head out of his arse.

Hermione finally managed to calm down a bit and stop snickering, but her cheeks were still a rather endearing shade of pink. Harry figured it was a good time to change the subject.

"Any good at Potionss?"

Age 14 Friday June 16 1995  
The end of the year feast was finally there, and to Harry's chagrin, he had been required to attend. He once again sat at the Gryffindor table, as the Headmaster had forbid him to sit at the Slytherin table again after that first night.

Dumbledore refused to explain why.

Harry thought it was rather ridiculous, after all, it wasn't as though the Headmaster could stop him from sitting at the Slytherin table if and when he was sorted into that house.

Harry resisted the urge to press his head against the table and hide under his arms. He was already doing his best to ignore the Headmaster's speech, but it wasn't working as well as he had hoped it would.

Finally, finally, the coot was done, and with a sound clap of his long withered hands, the food appeared.

Hermione was prodding him, trying to get him to sit up and talk to her.

"-family are going on holiday to Spain this summer- Harry? Are you even listening to me?" Harry peaked out from underneath one of his arms to glance up at her. She was giving him a rather annoyed look and he sighed.

"Yess, 'Mione, I'm lisstening." Even if he wasn't really. The spaghetti on her plate was almost enough to do him in right then and there.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Harry sighed. How did one respond to that? Well Hermione, it's just that Dumbledore is a wretched old man, you're leaving for over two months, I spend every night dreaming about the evil Dark Lord Voldemort, and your food makes me my stomach want to turn inside out.

"Nothing." Another sharp jab in his side.

"Come on Harry, tell me!" Now Harry glared at her.

"Nothing iss wrong, Hermione. Ssod Off." Harry buried his face under his arms again sullenly. Now it was Hermione's turn to sigh. She gave his braid a tug, and he snapped, sitting up abruptly.

"What?" Hermione's brown eyes looked startled, but they quickly hardened with a look of defiance. She huffed and went back to her dinner. "Ssorry, 'Mione, it'ss jusst that- well you know what thiss," He made a half hearted gesture around them, "doess to me. It'ss not your fault." Hermione's expression softened.

She studied him carefully, taking in his appearance. His braid was more unruly than normal and looked a bit unwashed, his cheeks looked sunken, and the bags under his eyes were so dark it gave him the appearance of having been punched. His eyes burned in their sunken sockets with a scary sort of dull intensity.

Hermione gave him a scrutinizing look, but seemed to understand he didn't want to talk right now. She settled for clasping his hand under the table and giving it a reassuring squeeze. It was clammy and cold.

Harry gave her a weak half smile and went back to burring his head in his arms, but didn't release her hand.

Hermione continued to eat, but more slowly and quietly, keeping her eating noises to a minimum. She glanced up at the head table to see Dumbledore chatting enthusiastically away with Sprout, and waving his hands about in wild gestures. She gave him a rather strong glare for what he was forcing Harry into.

Something nudged her arm, and she turned to see Blanche poking her head out of Harry's sleeve to give her a rather pitiful look. Hermione automatically moved to rub her fingers under the small white snake's chin. The brown haired girl frowned when the usually supple scales of Blanche's skin flaked a bit under her fingers. Giving the serpent a quick once over, she realized that the usually bright red-pink eyes had a dull sheen to them. Her scales lacked the usual luster, and Hermione wondered what was wrong. She crooned softly to the albino cobra, rubbing her fingers softly down Blanche's back. It broke her heart to see the loving creature so sick.

What ever is effecting Harry must be effecting his familiar, too. Hermione made it top priority to find out exactly what was bothering her friend before she left on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow.

Dumbledore paused in the middle of his three old crones joke to covertly glance at the Gryffindor table. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, making his beard twitch, but no one took notice.

Chapter 7: A Solution on the Horizon  
Love of a Snake  
Chapter 6: A Solution on the Horizon  
"Harry! Harry, we can go back to our dorms now." Hermione shook the raven-haired boys shoulder. He irritatingly batted her hand away and glared up at her balefully. Hermione stuck out her tongue in a rather childish fashion and tugged on his sleeve. They quickly made their way back to Harry's dorm, avoiding professors as best as they could. It was already eight o'clock, as Dumbledore's end-of-the-year speech had dragged on longer than usual. The brunette had packed earlier, so she was ready to go in the morning.  
Harry was dragging his feet and glaring holes in the floor. Hermione didn't really blame him, as it was obvious the smells and noise of the great hall had a rather overwhelming effect on him. Not to mention that the rather tactless way Dumbledore had forced him into mingling. It obviously wasn't having any sort of positive effect, and Hermione had to wonder if Dumbledore didn't notice, didn't care, or was doing it on purpose. The fact that she was a fourth year and could tell, lead her to believe that it probably wasn't the first option.

They finally reached Harry's room and Hermione tugged the emerald-eyed teens sleeve, pulling him down onto the bed to sit next to her. His face was still twisted in an angry grimace.

"Harry, what in the world is wrong? You look like you haven't slept in over a week!" Harry's angry demeanor seemed unshakable, and his face stayed hard. Nagini slunk out from under the bed, and nudged the side of his face. Hermione had long gotten over the large frightful presence of Harry's surrogate mother.

Nagini hissed something softly, in a seemingly comforting tone (if snakes can sound comforting). Blanche pushed up from under Harry's robe where she had been nesting around his neck. She added her own hiss to the silabent conversation, and Hermione tried hard not to feel left out.

Blanche's appearance reminded Hermione once again about her seemingly worsening condition. She glimpsed the cobra's dull lackluster eyes, and knew she had to say something to Harry.

'Harry, this has gone on long enough!" He turned to her and gave her a rather shocked expression.

"What in Wadjet'ss name are you talking about?"

"You're making Blanche sick with your temper tantrums and moodiness!" Harry continued to giver her a rather blank look.

"Hermione, Blanch issn't ssick", he began slowly, "What are you on about?" Hermione reached up to rub her fingers under the snake's chin. Small flakes of skin cam off under her ministrations, and she pushed these into Harry's line of vision.

"Look! Her skins pealing off! Her eyes are all milky! You can't tell me that's normal." Harry glanced at Blanche and hissed something to her quickly. A smile tugged at his lips and a small chuckle followed. Hermione flushed red with anger, as being laughed at was definitely one of the her least favorite things.

"What! What's so funny!" tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, and she quickly dashed them away.

"Hermione, sshe'ss jusst getting ready to pussh off her old sskin. Why doess thiss make you sso upsset?"

'You mean she's not sick?" Harry shook his head. Hermione let herself fall backwards onto the bed with a thump. Her bangs tumbled into her eyes and she let loose a frustrated puff of air, blowing them away. "I don't want to leave." Hermione rolled over to stare at Harry.

"Do you not misss your parentss?" Harry asked. She shook her head.

"I do... but my parents are never around; they're always busy at their dentists office. It's not like I'll see them that much anyway. And- Well-" Now she looked rather embarrassed. She buried her face in his pillow and mumbled something.

"What was that, Hermione?" She made another frustrated sigh, and peaked out from beneath her fuzzy mass of hair.

"Your my only friend." Harry's mouth quirked up.

Hermione left the next day, hugging Harry tightly repeatedly and tearfully promising to come see him over the summer. Harry took this all in stride and hugged her back. Only as the train was beginning to pull away from the Hogsmead station did she dash to get on, waving from the door way.  
Harry watched until she was out of sight before making his way back to Hogwarts.

His dreams were becoming more vivid and realistic, and seemed to echo in his mind long after he had awoken. Whispers just under his range of hearing, and figures in the corners of his vision that disappeared as soon as he turned to see them. There a smiling stranger with a glint of garnet in their eye, only to have it be a trick of the sun when he got closer. Here a rich dark velvet cloak sweeping around a corner. Harry wondered if he was going mad, or if this was just some effect of the supposed connection he shared with the Dark Lord.

He almost craved sleep now, as Voldemort had become a comforting nighttime presence, far preferable to that of Dumbledore and nearly all of the ignorant miscreants that lived at Hogwarts during the year. He was so close to breaking the enchantment over himself, and the Dark Lord had many helpful suggestions. Not being able to remember the exact enchantment Dumbledore had used, it was slow going. There were seemingly innumerable amounts of binding spells that ranged from marital bindings to keeping your pet in the yard. It definitely didn't help that they didn't seem to have ant rhyme of reason when it came to their organization.

He hadn't told anyone besides Nagini and Blanche what he was doing, and he especially hadn't told Hermione or Draco, as there was no telling when Dumbledore would interrogate his friends for any stray scrap of information about him. Hermione had already noticed his worsening state, as his midnight searches increased in their frantic fervor. But now, since it was summer, and he still hadn't found the counter, he was going to be stuck here with no other students to distract the Headmaster. It would probably be much harder to slip away unnoticed.

The wind began to pick up as Harry trudged back through the forest, having opted out of the bumpy carriage ride with the rather crazy looking horses that didn't really seem to like him. He needed to stretch his legs, and he was actually surprised Dumbledore had allowed him enough freedom to walk back to Hogwarts alone. Unless there was more to that damn binding spell than he knew.

Just the thought of it made him unbelievably furious.

He kicked a pebble rather hard, sending it flying off into a rather thorny bush. A small squawk followed and a bright purple bird took flight, but not before swooping down to peck him on the head.

His arm was up before the thing's beak lifted, and he brought the thing around to face him. It was a rather ugly creature with a curved beak and beady little black angry eyes. It was actually more of a dull eggplant color with brown spots mixed among its plumage. Harry's stomach rumbled, and he realized he hadn't eaten in over a week, so caught up in his search he had been.

"That beak looks pretty wicked." Blanche hissed into his ear. Harry gave her a sly smile and reached up with his other hand to snap the offending appendage off. The thing struggled and squawked, making a loud racket while trying its best to scratch the living daylights out of anything it could reach.  
"Stay- Still!" Another loud honking caw, and Harry heard the first snap, and with a rather bloody wet sound, the entire head came off. Blanche snickered in his ear. "Not exactly what I was going for, but I guess that works too. Hungry, Blanche?"

"No, I found a rather tasty nest of new born Kneazles yesterday." Harry snorted before carefully unhinging his jaw to begin his meal.

"Have you gone over this book? Its got a multitude of different ways to bind ones body." Harry glanced at the book, and recognized it as one he had read though four times already.  
"Yesss." He dropped his forehead into his hands and rubbed at his temples. In a fit of frustration he slammed his fists to the table and attempted to glare the nearest bookshelf into cinders. Voldemort ran gentle fingers though his hair, tugging Harry into his lap.

"Hush, little serpent. There is something we are missing here. That is all." He whispered soothingly in Parseltongue. Harry sighed and leaned back, pressing the side of his face into Voldemort's pale neck. He choked down a sob that was rising quickly in the back of his throat. Crying wouldn't get them anywhere.

"You must recall everything from that day. Every little detail, no matter how insignificant." Harry clutched his head.

"I've tried! We've been over and over this. I just- I must have been too scared or shocked to remember the spell or movements! At the time I didn't even know what he was saying!" Tears sprang back up into his eyes, and embarrassed he quickly scrubbed them away. "Is there any way at all to make me remember?"

"Well, I would offer you my pensive, but you must be in my actual proximity for memories to be withdrawn. I cannot do it though this dream reality, no matter how real it may seem."

"My training starts tomorrow, now that all of the students have gone home. I don't know how long I'll be able to stand it. If only I could just transform!" Voldemort continued to stroke his hair, untangling the impossibly long glossy strands in a way that would have made them worse had they been in normal reality.

The Dark Lord mumbled something to himself.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"I was just thinking. Do you know how to extract memory strands?" Harry shook his head. "Watch closely. You must first focus on which ever memory you wish to withdraw. Then you simply place your wand to your temple, like so. Generally, if it's a good memory of some sort, the right temple works better. If it's a more negative memory, the left temple is easier." Harry nodded, and watched as Voldemort placed his wand to his left temple and withdrew a silvery strand of some kind of phosphorescent substance. Harry nodded to show he understood the concept, and the Dark Lord pressed the strand back into his head.

"I need you to contact Lucius' son, and extract that memory into a memory sphere that he will have in his possession. Instruct him to send that to me, and I will be able to study it for any minor details that we've missed."Harry buried his face back into the Dark Lords neck, and closed his eyes. He nodded silently against Voldemort's skin, and inhaled his scent. The same scent that spoke of sun baked scales, and tangy venom that he so loved. He was so very tired, these dreams where they searched Voldemort's personal library for helpful information left him as much without real sleep as his midnight forays into Hogwarts library.

The Dark Lord glanced down, having heard Harry's breath slow and even out. He could feel that Harry had indeed fallen asleep; in his own dream. Tightening his arms protectively about his precious bundle briefly, he relaxed his mental hold on Harry's consciousness, and slipped back into reality.

Of course upon waking, Harry realized he didn't actually have any way to contact Draco, and wondered just how strictly his mail was monitored. If only they had thought of this yesterday! He thumped his head back against his pillow, and jostled Blanche from her preferred resting place.  
"Wha- Harry! Bloody halfwit lummox!" Blanche glared at him, and Harry and he gave her a rather sheepish look. She was rather irritable, as her skin was ready to shed any day now, and it made her itchy and unable to see very well.

"Sorry, little sister." Harry pressed a kiss to her nose, "I love you"

"Damn straight." Harry gave her a sideways glance, wondering where she had acquired her new vocabulary. He was sure he had never said 'Damn straight.' She had already tucked her nose back under a coil, however, and was back to breathing softly. Chuckling softly, he climbed out of bed, and headed towards the shower, deciding to deal with the memory problem later.


End file.
